Hallways
by SuperSixOne
Summary: I am everyone, and yet, I am no one.


Hallways

Disclaimer: Not mine

A/N: Short and twisted

Their screams seemed to ring through the endless hallway, echoing and echoing into the dark. Her body was frozen in place no matter how much she willed her bone weary limbs to lift. The putrid stench of death lingered like smoke in the long row of doors. The smell invaded her nostrils, the sickly sweet touch causing her to choke on her own vomit. Feeling of impending doom took over her thoughts as the frantic cries concealed behind the large doors gradually became louder and more painful. She felt she was not alone in the hallway, she was being watched, but she was not able to see anything in the gloom. Her stomach dropped to her toes as a figure approached her through the mist, a mere shadow. The figure was male, his shoulders broad, tall and large, face hidden by a hooded cape.

The man was completely dressed in black robes, yet they were not robes; they were shadows and he smelled strongly of blood. She began to feel nauseous once again. Evil seemed to radiate off of him in waves, the tattered robes swaying in an imaginary wind. With each door the man passed, a crack appeared down the middle of the wood and the handles rattled and steamed. Terror filled her very soul as the man slowly lifted up his head and pulled back his hood. His face was contorted, mouth forever open in a scream. His eyes glinted in a malicious black, as black as the shadows that engulfed his body. Her breath hitched in her throat as his gloved hand reached into his robes and pulled out a dagger, the blade gleaming from some unseen source of light. She was so sure he could hear the fast beat of her heart as the man ran his black finger up and down the flat of the sharp, shimmering blade, almost lovingly. He brought his haunting face inches from her and he was so close, she could smell the decay on his breath.

The man smirked as the small girl cowered away from him, her back flat against the wall in front of him, watching her large brown eyes dart back in forth in panic, just like a dog being cornered by a bully with a stick, looking for a way around him. It was quite amusing. He could smell the fear radiate off the girl in waves, one after another after another, and to be truthful, nothing could compare to that particular scent. Nothing. Not freshly baked apple pie, not grandmother's lasagna, not even jet fuel. It wafted into his nostrils like a balloon set free into the sky, triggering his senses and causing him to shudder in ecstasy. Gently, the man rubbed his dagger with the fingers of his left hand like an alcoholic would caress a beer bottle, up and down, from the deadly tip of the bade, to the smooth, cool handle. Then, gripping the dagger tightly in his right hand, he grabbed the girl by the front of her shirt roughly, bringing her warm body next to his clammy flesh. He would have become distracted by the unexpected warmth had the girl not begun to kick at his legs. And that made him upset and when he got upset, he got angry.

"Do you remember me?" he growled into her ear, grinning when the girl shivered in his touch, groaning when he tightened his grip on her shoulder. "You may not have recognized me though. I've taken a new form just for you."

"Let me go," the girl pleaded and the man could feel her begin to grow weaker each second as she continued to struggled against his steel hold.

"Now what's the fun in that? I came all the way from Hell to find you and now you don't want to play a little game with an old friend? That's not being very social. You should know better," he whispered into her neck.

"Who are you?" the girl choked out as the man wrapped his left arm around her neck, pressing her back against his chest firmly.

The man smirked and answered the trembling girl, "I'm everyone, and yet…"

He shoved the dagger into her left side, right under her ribcage and then shoved the blade up into her major organs. He heard the girl gasp in horrendous pain as he twisted the dagger back and forth in her body and suddenly she went limp in his arms, her head tilted forward, dark blood trickling from her mouth. It dripped slowly down her chin and made a soft patter when fell to the floor, like the sound of rain dripping steadily off leaves after a storm. The sound alone calmed the man's soul as he pulled the dagger out of the girl's body and slipped it into his pocket. He then eased the girl onto the floor, laying her back to the floor. Surprisingly, her eyes were already closed, and strangely enough, a serene look was on her face. Despite all her struggle, it seemed as if… it seemed as if she had made ends with her death.

Then, gazing down at the girl's still body, he spoke his last words to her cooling form, "I am everyone, and yet, I am no one."

It was 2:36 in the morning when Sidney Prescott died in her sleep.


End file.
